


Novaturient

by DekuPrince



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Gen, Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 02:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2564771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DekuPrince/pseuds/DekuPrince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time wasting habits and sadism have to start somewhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Novaturient

  
To be an assassin is to kill, and Kalluto is no different from his siblings in how efficiently he works. It's afterward he worries about, insecurities festering over how he gets several steps away from his first body before bending at the waist and retching.  
  


He knows Illumi is shadowing him. Illumi or Grandfather, but when Kalluto returns home Silva mentions nothing of weakness he demonstrated, nor anything of the justified punishment it deserved. Maybe Illumi hadn't gotten back yet to give his report, it's the only reason that makes sense for Kalluto to leave unadmonished.  
  


Unsure of himself and nowhere else to turn, Kalluto seeks out Killua in his bedroom.  
  


"Killua?" Kalluto's calls softly from the doorway. If Killua is busy then by all rights Kalluto wants to go unnoticed. The prodigal son is raised onto such a high pedestal, especially by Mother, so it's not uncommon for Kalluto to be anxious in his presence. He's going to do great things. Killua is the one who's going to lead the family.  
  


Kalluto wonders sometimes if that should make him as _relieved_ as it does. It removes so much pressure from his own training, but maybe it should make him jealous that Killua can be proclaimed the heir practically since birth. Only two years separated them, hard work could trump natural talent if one worked hard enough.  
  


He scoffs at the idea. Their parents know best, they're experienced enough to judge strength in ways Kalluto can't fathom. Not to mention if strength and experience were all he needed Illumi next in line, not himself. That was a gap he couldn't hope to close for at least a decade.  
  


"Ah," Killua's face brightens when he looks up, but not by much. Like Kalluto isn't his favorite person to be seeing right now, but his luck could have been worse as far as visitors go. Whatever had been entertaining him, a handheld game likely stolen from Milluki, is dropped off the side of the bed before he scoots to sit at it's bottom, feet kicking absently. He doesn't tell Kalluto to come further into the room, but Killua has given him his full attention.  
  


"Did you want something?" Killua is quick to prompt when Kalluto isn't immediately forthcoming. His eyes dart to look at the ground, picking at dried blood from under his nails absently as he tries to think how to ask what he wants without seeming pathetic. "Hey." Killua's voice is louder this time, eyes sharp and bright like he's just realized something, and he beckons Kalluto closer.  
  


Gratefully, Kalluto pushes the door open a little further and moves across the room so he can sit beside Killua. Killua reaches to pluck up Kalluto's hand the moment he's settled, and Kalluto lets it go limp so Killua can get a better look at the flaking blood.  
  


"How did you feel? After your first kill." Kalluto asks, starting to kick his feet just as Killua stops kicking his.  
  


"Not much." Killua shrugs, cold honesty in his voice as he drops Kalluto's hand to lean his weight back onto his own. Hearing the admission has Kalluto's hands clutching nervously at his pants. "Don't let them see that." Killua's voice is so quiet it's almost inaudible, but the warning in it is sharp enough Kalluto flinches, feet freezing mid-kick.  
  


"How." Even speaking with an apathetic tone Kalluto spits the word out too fast, belying his panic. He can't get the woman's face out of his mind, picture perfect in recollection down to how the light of the room only highlighted the death clouding her eyes.  
  


Fearing physical or psychological pain as punishment is something Kalluto has learned to withstand years ago. This wasn't about that. This was about growing into the assassin role none of them had a choice or say in. The easier it was to fit himself into the mold, the easier his life was going to be.  
  


Kalluto thinks he likes killing. Now he just wants to be  _good_ at it, and live up to the Zoldyck's infamy of how to get a job done _right_. 

  


"Make it so whatever's bothering you now? Can't next time." Killua's focus is glued to the door, acute attention thrown at it. As if that'd help him sense Illumi or Silva if they were hovering outside the room to eavesdrop. If they didn't want to be sensed, they won't be, no matter how big of a prodigy Killua is.  


  
Kalluto takes the advice silently and slips back off the bed. He tries to focus less on the warm wiggling in his chest that Killua seems to be acting somewhat protective towards him in this moment and more on how to _fix_ this. Even so, Killua's genuine concern leaves a smile tugging at the edge of Kalluto's lips, fingers flicking up and over his shoulder in thanks as he hurriedly leaves the room.  
  


A few days later Kalluto finds the woman's grave after her services are held, digs her up, and cuts off her face. He stares at her skull, scratching off stubborn clinging muscle from around her nose with his nail, until he forgets what the woman's face looked like. Satisfied with himself, he brushes the dirt off his kimono, replacing it with remnants of embalming fluids, and climbs out of the grave.  
  


\---  
  


Complete annihilation. That's where Kalluto finds his solace over the next few months.  
  


Reducing someone to no more than a smear across the floor or wall leaves nothing to remember but the dark stain of their blood and the white peeking of bone from their flesh. No face is recognizable enough to stand up next to such a grisly scene and it always leaves Kalluto to sigh in content when the job is over. It lets him leave the target behind where he killed them, nothing to bring back and haunt him in the darkness of closed eyes.  
  


The necessity for peace of mind turns into something. . .he relishes. Kalluto feels powerful knowing he can overcome his own emotions through force and violence. Overcoming his weakness all on his own with only the smallest hint of guidance from Killua makes Kalluto feel accomplished (even though the whispers in the back of his head tell him this is probably something he alone had to deal with, the rest of the family simply born cold, and calculated, and strong, where he's been found weak).  
  


"All over your clothes," his Mother fusses, hands fluttering around Kalluto, unwilling to touch her child lest she get herself bloody, too. "I'm so _proud_ , Mama has a surprise for your training regime. But first, let's get cleaned up."  
  


Nen. His surprise was something called Nen, and Kalluto can barely suppress a competitive glee he didn't know he possessed when his Mother told him to keep it a secret from Killua, Killua wasn't ready to know, Killua is approaching such a _critical_ stage in his training, Killua can't be distracted by such things just yet, maybe in a year or two. . .

**Author's Note:**

> Novaturient (adj) desiring or seeking powerful change in one's life, behavior, or situation.


End file.
